


Parenthetical, the First

by SerenStone



Series: Rage, Rage Against the Dying of the Light [3]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Discussion of BDSM Topics, Do Not Do As the Warlock Do, F/M, Failsafe Needs a Hug, M/M, Multi, Other, Self Harm, We Stan AI in this House, We Stan Ghosts in this House, We Stan Titans in this House, We Stan Warlocks in this House
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:15:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24179551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerenStone/pseuds/SerenStone
Relationships: Developing M/M Relationship?, Ghost/Guardian (Destiny), Ghost/Guardian - Established
Series: Rage, Rage Against the Dying of the Light [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1743430
Comments: 6
Kudos: 7





	1. And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way

Ardath-4 sat, staring at the dashboard in front of him as his mind swam with emotions he couldn’t pin down. More than anything, he felt that he was making a mistake that he couldn’t undo. Perhaps it was already done. Something in him refused to turn the ship around and go back. There would be time for going back later.

The navigation console beeped at him, reminding him of its need for a destination. On impulse he queued up Nessus. He still hadn’t told Failsafe he was- Well. Alive again. 

He powered down for a quick recharge and when he woke he put together a pack. He wouldn’t be able to put the ship down near Failsafe’s core, he knew. He’d be at least an hour’s travel away. Hesitating, he turned to a ship console and pulled up the inventory. 

Sure enough, there was a Sparrow in storage under the gangplank. An Azure Azazyel. From the info card, it was primarily created for use on the ice caps of Mars. Particularly steady and reliable, in other words. 

Finally, his hands began to shake. He pushed his fears aside and returned to kitting himself out for travel and holding out against the Fallen. Even with a Sparrow shortening the trip, it would be better to be prepared. 

When the ship reached low orbit over Nessus his comms board lit up. “Unknown ship,” Failsafe’s voice rang out. “Please identify yourself.”

“Hey Failsafe,” he said, at a loss. 

“ _What the fuck_?” spat Failsafe’s secondary personality. “Where’s the Captain?”

“Mars, I think?” he said. “I decided to come say hi, since I can do that now.”

“But you are a Ghost! It is not safe to approach. The Fallen-”

“EXO, actually,” he corrected without inflection.

“ _You’d better get in here and explain yourself_.”

“Working on it,” he said. “Are these coordinates an acceptable landing site? I can’t transmat anymore.”

“That location is typically safe,” she agreed. “Please use proper security measures.”

“Of course,” he rolled his eyes. “I’m not an idiot just because I changed bodies.”

“ _No, just because you got killed_ ,” the anger in her voice was clear. 

“Let’s hold off on the shouting at each other until we can do it in person,” he sighed, suddenly remembering how much he disliked talking to Failsafe.

“ _Fine_ ,” she said, petulant. “ _Hurry up_.”

With the help of the Sparrow, the trip was much less eventful than he’d feared and shortly he stood before Failsafe’s core, pulling off the helmet Ana had given him. “Hey,” he said, carefully guiding the Sparrow into the room. “Long time no argue.”

“What happened?” Failsafe’s more normal voice said. “The Captain said that her attempts to bring you back had failed.”

“She was talking to you about them?”

“I consulted on several stages of the project,” she noted, proud. “Though I did not anticipate the final stage would result in an explosion of that size.”

Ardath stilled. “She didn’t say anything about an explosion.”

“Perhaps she did not consider it a result of the experimentation, then!” Failsafe said, cheerfully. 

“Now, hold on-”

“But you are back and the Captain is not with you and you are not with the Captain. Given the amount of work she put into getting you back one might consider your absence _ungrateful_. Why are you here?”

“I was looking over the project for getting you a ship,” he said, grinding his jaw. “I wanted to say hello before I started making changes to your accounts.”

“ _You had a fight. You couldn’t go five minutes without getting in a fight with her_?”

“It was a lot longer than five minutes!” he shouted.

“Was it?” Failsafe asked hopefully.

He thought back to the first five minutes of wakefulness. “Define fight.”

“A violent confrontation or struggle or an argument. _You’re not her Ghost anymore. I can hurt you now_.”

“Right. How would you do that? And no, we didn’t have an argument in the first five minutes.”

“ _You’ll find out_.”

He rolled his eyes. “Look, I came to make sure you were okay with me helping out with the accounting side of things once you were convinced I’m alive again. If all you’re going to do is think of ways to hurt me, I’ll be going.”

“ _Fine_ ,” she groaned. “You are welcome to stay,” she chirped. “Please do not power on the Sparrow in the Core.”

“Not planning on it. What’s going on with you?”

Failsafe told him about the happenings on Nessus and what she knew about the progress on the project for her ship. “Have you met Silla yet?” she asked, cheerfully.

“Yeah, met her on Earth. She seems good.”

“She is both very effective and kind!” 

“Good,” Ardath nodded. “Oh, hey. Eris told me to change my name so Shry doesn’t get in trouble over uh. Necromancy stuff. I go by Ardath-4.”

“Why would the Captain get in trouble over necromancy stuff?”

“It’s Hive magic. The Vanguard doesn’t allow Guardians to practice Hive magic.”

“Making the appropriate changes,” she noted. 

“Thanks.”

“So what did you argue about?” Ardath leveled a glare at her core. “Clearly you argued. You’re not together. You had a fight. You ran off because you are a coward. What was it about?”

“I am not!”

“You are!” Her singsong voice made the accusation sound like a song for children. “You really, really are.”

He wanted to stalk away, take a minute to collect himself, but the only place he could go was full of Fallen. Then he realized that both the desire and the reason not to could be called cowardice and he sagged against the wall.

“She made a promise to me once. She kept it while I was alive. I saw… proof that she wasn’t keeping it anymore. I… got upset.”

“ _Yelled_.”

“Yeah.”

“ _And ran_.”

“Yeah.”

“So what was this promise that you’re so upset?”

“I really should not tell you. You’re like… the closest thing she has to a daughter. I think she might kill me. And Isaac definitely would.”

“That is the kindest thing you have ever said to me,” Failsafe’s voice was full of wonder and other emotions he couldn’t name.

“What?”

“I am like her daughter,” Failsafe said. “It is inaccurate; I am far older. But it was kind of you to say.”

Ardath’s jaw worked. “You’re welcome,” he ventured. 

“Was the fight about Isaac facilitating her sexual desires? Is that why you think I shouldn’t know?”

The noise that came from him was one he didn’t know how to reproduce and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. “Don’t tell me they did that here,” he said, horrified. 

“No, but they left the comms open once! The experience was very educational.”

Ardath buried his face in his hands. “I am so sorry.”

“Why? You were not a participant. Or is that why you are sorry?”

Another indescribable noise tore out of him. “Failsafe!”

“ _Oh no. It is_.”

“No!” he said quickly. 

“ _No, it totally is. I have crew records to compare your physical and vocal behaviors to, you know._ Which is a breach of privacy protocols!”

“It absolutely is,” Ardath said. “You shouldn’t do that.”

“ _Too late_.” Ardath buried his face in his hands again, determined not to be so much of a coward that he fled. “Why did you yell?”

“What?” he asked, muffled. 

“You would not have made her promise not to spend time with a Ghost like that. There’s no reason to be upset.”

“She wants people to hurt her,” he blurted out, horrified and relieved to be talking about it. “Choke her, even. Isaac was doing that!”

“That seems practical. According to my understanding of Ghost capabilities, he would be able to know when it was too much or too dangerous, as well as being able to heal her when needed.”

“No, he- He’s okay with her wanting pain, Failsafe.”

“ _Lots of people want pain. I can show you-_ That would be in breach of privacy protocols!”

Ardath stared at the Core in horror. “What do you mean lots of people want pain?”

“Statistical studies of the phenomenon during the Golden Age were rarely deemed reliable due to the subjective nature of the subject. Therefore, “lots” is not a defensible term. However, studies involving those who made use of that style of sexual interaction noted that it was only rarely about the physical experience of pain and more often about some sort of psychological association therewith.”

He gaped at her for longer than he meant to. “You have records of statistical studies of sexual preferences?”

“ _You wouldn’t believe-_ Yes!”

“That’s… concerning.”

“Not really. What’s concerning is that you yelled at the Captain over her sexual preferences.”

“She’s making him hurt her!”

“The Captain is psychologically incapable of forcing the Friendly Ghost to do something he is unwilling to do. He was not coerced. Convinced, maybe. But I am certain that he has seen the benefits via the statistical differences in her behavior. I have.”

Ardath recoiled. “Benefits from hurting her?”

“ _You raised her for war and you’re worried about bruises during sex_?”

“I was always trying to reduce her exposure to danger!” he shouted. “She never listened!”

“Maybe you should have listened to her,” Failsafe said.

“What?” he didn’t understand.

“Did you ever ask if she wanted you to reduce her exposure to danger? Did you ever tell her that you needed something different than she was providing? Informed consent requires communication.”

“Informed consent?” he asked, blankly. 

There was a long silence. “Get comfortable. We’re going to be here for a while.”

“Failsafe?”

“Yes?”

“I think I- I think I fucked up.”

“Calculating probabilities: Highly likely!”

“I’m serious. I said some really… really horrible things before I left.”

“Tell me exactly what you said.”

Ardath forced himself to repeat himself word for word. “‘Really. You’re back to this? Well, it’s not like you ever stopped did you. Letting people hurt you for sex. You still think pain is a luxury, don’t you. You haven’t changed at all. How did you even convince- Dying was never enough for you. You had to force suffering on yourself. Couldn’t stop hating yourself for one fucking second to see what you were doing. Selling your body for-’ And Isaac interrupted me and told me it was none of my business and I said ‘That won’t be a problem. I thought better of you.’”

“You- You,” Failsafe stuttered and Ardath wondered if she was experiencing errors. “ _You called her a whore_.” 

He flinched. 

“If she did not love you so much I would kill you now,” Failsafe’s natural voice said and he believed her.

“I’d thank you,” he said quietly.

“That’s another reason not to do it. No. I am going to teach you and you are going to be better and then and only then will I return you to the Captain.”

He took a deep breath. “Okay. Teach me.”


	2. Because their words had forked no lightning

Isaac was watching indulgently as Katya chased Shry around the Futurescape lobby for shocking her while Ana called encouragement when he received a communication notification. He glanced at it, fully intending to leave it for later when he saw the sender tag: Ardath-4. 

No one had tried to find Ardath. The consensus had been that he would come back as he saw fit. He was smart and clever and well outfitted. The manner of his leaving still hurt. 

A second notification arrived from the same sender and he decrypted them to find that both were labeled “An Apology.” One was labeled “To Shry” and the other “To Isaac.” Isaac opened the one addressed to him.

_Isaac,_

_There aren’t really enough words or numbers to say all the things I need to say as clearly and thoroughly as I want to say them. I’m going to do my best but my best has rarely been satisfactory._

_I am so sorry._

_First for the many, many ways I failed Shry. I failed her by my ignorance. I failed her by my stubbornness. I failed her by my lack of empathy. I failed her by my insecurity. I failed her by my fragility. I failed her by not knowing what I had. There are so many more ways but I’m struggling to put words to them. I am so, so sorry._

_No, I’m not just apologizing for these things to you. She’ll see something similar if she reads it. She’s well within her rights not to, just like you. I really hope you’re reading this even if you never respond. The idea that either of you might never know that I’m sorry is… horrible._

_Second for the ways I have consistently insulted you, the ways I have demeaned your dedication to your position and to Shry, the ways I have consistently made your work more complex, the ways I have undervalued your sacrifices, the ways my failures made your role as Shry’s Ghost next to impossible. I’m sorry._

_Third, and most importantly, I’m sorry for what I said and the way I said it. I’m sorry for entering without permission. I’m sorry for panicking and turning to anger rather than trusting you enough to tell you about my fears and worries. I don’t believe any of what I said. I have been educated on the topic and I don’t think what she wants is wrong anymore. I still don’t comprehend but I don’t have to. I shouldn’t have said any of what I said. It was wrong. I was wrong. I’m sorry. I am so sorry. I’m sorry for as good as calling her a- a whore. I never thought she was one and I still don’t think so. I do this horrible thing where I attack the closest target with words when I’m afraid and I can’t begin to count the number of times I did that to Shry. I am so sorry and it is not enough._

_Fourth, I apologize for saying I thought better of you. Now that I better understand those particular kinds of needs and the difference they can make, I can entirely understand your choices. Not that that matters. Whatever you do and don’t want to do within consent is not my business. I’m not saying this well. I’m sorry for saying I didn’t think well of you anymore. I lied. I’ve never thought better of anyone. I miss you._

_I can almost guarantee there is more I need to apologize for. I can’t think of any of it now. Failsafe suggested I apologize for being myself. I hope I don’t need to apologize for that. Being me is how I got to meet Shry and to meet you. I will absolutely apologize for being an idiot. I am such a moron and inconsiderate and selfish and proud and cruel. I’m sorry. I am learning to do better. I am grateful for the chance to do better._

_Traveler alive, I never told you that. Thank you for helping her bring me back. Thank you for letting her bring me back. Thank you for bringing me back._

_More than that, thank you for giving her a chance. Thanks for choosing her. Thank you for everything you’ve done for her. Thank you._

_Don’t let me near her if you’re not sure of me, please. If you decide I’m not worth the time or effort, Failsafe has at least six plans for disposing of me and I’d rather you take her up on that then ever have the opportunity to hurt someone again._

_With Gratitude,  
Ardath-4_

Isaac could barely think. He transmatted away to an empty room so the wounded-animal sounds he made would trouble no one. He had actively avoided spending time with the emotions Ardath’s words and actions had caused him. He had actively avoided the disappointment. 

Foolishly perhaps, he had hung hope after hope on the EXO, even after the first few disappointments. When he’d arrived while Isaac had had Shry pinned and settled in to stay with him, it had meant everything to him. When Shry had shown him the data on their work to revive him and Ardath had said- Many things. Then he’d shown Isaac how to help Shry with her work as a Cryptarch. And it was thanks to Ardath that Isaac was even still alive. Isaac had wanted so badly to be able to trust Ardath, for it to be safe to keep him near. 

He had not been pleased with how much losing that hope had affected him.

This? This light in the dark, chance at a future where his hopes weren’t meaningless nothings sacrificed to his highest priorities? It filled him like Light.

It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t proof. It was only words. But Failsafe- Failsafe! Brilliant Failsafe would have data for him. 

“Isaac?” He turned, startled, to find Shry in the doorway. “Lots of big feelings,” she said cautiously. “You okay?”

“I am unsure,” he admitted. “Ardath made contact.” He watched the breath leave her. 

“He’s alive?”

“He did not speak to his status but given the encryption style I believe the messages to have originated with him.”

“Messages? What-” she broke off, looking away. 

Another notification drew his attention. Failsafe. 

_Friendly Ghost, your missing predecessor is in my Core and he’s not going anywhere until I let him. I am continuing to repair what I can of his misconceptions. Please inform me when I may safely punish him for the Captain. Failsafe._

“Failsafe says he’s with her and safe,” he said. To Failsafe, he responded:

_You are brilliant and I am more grateful than I can express at this moment. I’m afraid I need more from you: please, send me any real data on changes you have observed. I can’t operate on blind hope any longer. It puts her at too great a risk._

“Oh,” Shry sighed, slumping against the wall and sliding to the floor. “That’s good.”

“It would seem he’s been there for some time at least. She’s not turning him loose without your say so,” he added. “He’s safe.”

“Good,” she said again. Relaxing on a level she hadn’t since he’d left. 

“There is a letter for you,” he said slowly. “I have not read it. I read the one he sent to me and I- I am not pleased with the situation but I am relieved by his words.”

“What- what do you mean?”

“He apologized,” Isaac explained. “Well, even.”

“He’s done that before,” she sighed. 

Ah. “You do not have to read it,” he said evenly. “I will not be disappointed either way,” he decided.

“I’m going to read it,” she said. “I just, I need to remember the pattern.”

“Of course,” he said, floating down to her. “Whatever you need.”

“Can you send it to my datapad?” She produced it from its case.

“Done.” Another notification. 

_Friendly Ghost, do I have a gift for you. Please see the attached gift and send appropriate thanks when your jaw-equivalent is no longer stuck on the floor. Note: The subject offered permission for this entirely voluntarily days ago. Brilliant Failsafe._

Shry took a deep breath and opened the letter.

_Shry,_

_I’m sorry. That’s the most important thing here and how much does it even mean at this point? I am so sorry and you are so totally within your rights not to believe it or not to care. How many times have I apologized for almost this exact thing? If anything proved to me that nothing about me changed when you brought me back, it’s this._

Shry dropped the datapad on the floor and her head in her hands, shaking. With several more deep breaths, she began reading again without picking the datapad up.

_I’m sorry for failing you. I failed you as a Ghost and now I’ve failed you as a friend. I saw you with those bruises again and I panicked and didn’t trust you enough to just tell you I was afraid. I didn’t trust Isaac enough. I didn’t trust me enough. I don’t know. I wasn’t enough. Brave enough, I guess._

_Your humanity has always terrified me. The ways in which you are still so very mortal are sometimes all I can see when I look at you. I found you and you were immediately so willing to do anything to help people and I wasn’t ready to risk you. I didn’t know myself well enough to say when it got to be too much, when I didn’t know how to cope anymore. I didn’t know my own boundaries or limitations well enough to tell you when you hit them but I blamed you for doing it anyway._

_I took you to the Vanguard and you took to it so quickly it was like you were meant for it. Traveler knows you probably were. Somehow, I think you got the idea that you were a soldier, a member of an army. The Vanguard was never meant to be an army. If that’s what they are now, shame on them. In an army, every soldier is a statistic more than a name, ultimately dispensable in pursuit of victory. That’s why the Last City has no armies. There is no life dispensable. Not a mortal’s. Not yours. Never yours. Not once._

_I remember every single one of your deaths while I was with you._

Shry choked on a sob and found that she’d been crying for a while. Isaac had already curled his Light through her and she turned and wrapped him in a hug. “I can’t do this without you,” she admitted. “I cannot do this.”

“I am here,” he said immediately. “How can I help?”

“Will you meld with me while I read, please?” His Light reached immediately for hers and their minds slid together with an ease that still felt like coming home. She waited for him to catch up with her, feeling his grief and sympathy as he did. Together, they continued. 

_I remember every single one of your deaths while I was with you. Every single one of them is a failure of mine. In that way alone I failed you 6,431 times in eight years. I’ve apologized for my words so many times but I was always too ashamed to mention them. I thought if I pretended it didn’t happen maybe I wouldn’t feel so terrible but that obviously never worked. I am so sorry, Shry. So much more than 6,431 times sorry. I failed to protect you in most every way that mattered._

_What makes it worse is that I know that I don’t remember it all so clearly because I hated that you had to go through death again. I knew you didn’t care. I cared because I thought it reflected on me, I think. That’s the explanation that hurts the most so I imagine it’s the truest one of them all. I’m so, so sorry._

It wasn’t clear which of them needed the break, but they stopped to breathe, tears streaming down her face. “I never knew,” she breathed.

“He is skilled at hiding himself behind his words,” Isaac said slowly. 

_I haven’t managed as complete a tally of my other failures. Maybe we can agree to add that to the pile. I don’t know all the ways I hurt you. Even just writing that feels worse than dying did. Reading it is worse. I’m sorry._

It was Shry keening that stopped them, then. She wailed into her hands, unable to stop her body from producing sound. She would have hyperventilated if Isaac hadn’t flooded her with his Light. He kept her attention on him until he was certain she was calm enough to proceed without causing herself undue harm. 

_The day I left, I as good as called you a whore. I said a lot of other things too, things I had said or implied before. All of it, everything I said about your sexual preferences was out of line. Wrong. I shouldn’t have said any of it. Failsafe has taught me what consent means, and informed consent, and even the differences and what they’re not. I am sorry. I am so, so sorry. I don’t have to comprehend for it to be what you need and I was never willing to let that be true. I’m sorry._

“Failsafe?” Shry hiccuped. 

“Brilliant,” he noted. 

_I’m sorry for the ways my often willful ignorance held both of us back. I’m sorry for the ways my stubbornness prevented us from understanding each other. I’m sorry for my lack of empathy. I’m sorry for my insecurity. I’m sorry for my fragility. I’m sorry I never listened. I’m sorry I didn’t comprehend what I had. I am so, so sorry I never learned to trust you._

_I’m not a good person, I’m learning. I don’t think I was a good Ghost. But I am glad to have the chance to try again. To learn. So, thanks for bringing me back. Thank you for surviving. Thank you for still being here._

_More importantly, thank you for letting Isaac be your Ghost. Thank you so much for moving on. Thank you for trusting him when I taught you not to trust your own Ghost. Thank you for letting him in anyway. Thank you for choosing well._

A tearing sound came from Isaac’s speakers and Shry wrapped him in her arms. When it didn’t stop, she dropped a rift beneath them and gently stroked her fingers across his shell. “I know, love. I know,” she said gently, rocking them back and forth. The sound tapered off with time and they continued reading.

_I miss you so much. I want to beg for permission to come back but I won’t. If you even for a second consider forgiving me or letting me back or if you’re just curious ask Failsafe before you do anything. I know she’s been charting my progress. Don’t let me anywhere near you if I’ve not made tangible progress okay?_

_If I’m still an asshole, don’t let me out of here. Failsafe can deal with me. Never, ever let me near you again if I’m not worth your time. I never want to hurt you again, especially not unknowingly. I love you too much to bear doing that any longer._

Shry broke into sobbing again. 

_Let him make you happy, please._

Isaac had to brace himself against asking for things neither of them could afford. 

_Gratefully,  
Ardath-4. _

“He- He-” she shook so hard she could hardly speak. “Help,” she asked. He nodded, pushing Light through her for a moment before he transmatted them both into Katya’s waiting arms. 

“That’s a lot,” Katya said, after reading through both letters. “How are you two feeling?”

“I don’t know,” Shry admitted. “A lot.”

“Very much,” Isaac agreed. “And hesitantly hopeful,” he confessed, knowing Katya would keep him honest.

“Okay. So let’s be careful and stay safe but not break anything,” Katya said slowly. 

“According to Failsafe’s charts he’s correcting himself before he says things now,” Astrophel noted.

“How badly is he hurting her?” Shry asked, worried.

Astrophel looked at her, posture confused. “Are you serious? You’re serious. Shry, Failsafe has always disliked him. From the day they met. There is nothing he can do or say that she will take seriously unless and until it hurts you.”

“She- What?” Shry was visibly flabbergasted and both Katya and Astrophel turned to look at Isaac. 

“What would I have said?” he asked, calmly. Apparently accepting that reasoning, they turned back to the conversation at hand.

“What do you want, Shry?” Katya asked. 

“I’ve always wanted him back,” she said quietly. “That hasn’t changed just because I’m willing to say he hurt me now.”

“Will you be honest with me when something he says hurts you?” Isaac asked.

“I… will try,” she said. “I don’t know how well I’ll do.”

“We’ll practice together,” he said simply and she relaxed. “Will you allow me to handle things when he has hurt you and you do not wish to address it?”

“What if I don’t wish to address it for valid reasons?” she countered.

“Will you share those reasons with me and trust me to have your best interests at heart when I decide whether to follow your wishes?”

Shry took a deep breath. “I can’t promise I won’t be angry, but I can promise to listen.”

“Thank you,” he said. 

“Isaac, I’m not doing this without your wholehearted agreement,” Shry said, voice suddenly very certain as she leveled enough of her focus on him that he felt his Light responding. “If you are not one hundred percent okay with letting Ardath-4 be a part of our lives again, then he’s not in. None of this “I accept your answer” bullshit this time. I need to know you’re not just going through this because I’m incapable of letting go.”

Isaac took the time to fully consider her ultimatum, as well as his own motivations. “I miss him,” he admitted eventually. “I want to give him a chance.”

“Okay,” Shry breathed. “Okay.”

“I miss the idiot too,” Astrophel confessed. 

“Let’s figure out how we want to do this, then,” Katya said. “Choose a neutral place and time. Probably somewhere on Nessus so Failsafe can facilitate him keeping up with his new choices. It’s hard to keep that sort of thing going when the people you’re with expect something else.”

“Agreed,” Isaac said immediately. 

“And maybe bring extra handkerchiefs,” Astrophel quipped.

“Yeah,” Shry laughed. “I think I am going to need them.”


	3. Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears

“Fingers,” Failsafe sighed for the sixth time. 

Ardath-4 drew his fingers from his mouth and tried to fidget only with the various fidget pieces Failsafe had given him schematics for. He especially liked the one she called a fidget spinner. He kept them all in a pouch on his belt.

Given the weeks he’d spent in her Core, he had begun assembling things to keep his hands busy. She’d helped him find enough pieces that he’d even been able to put together a basic frame for her so she could walk around and survey her ship herself. They’d been on a few Sparrow rides to further parts of her ship. It had been hard for her and he’d done his best to be sympathetic. She was even more fiercely grateful to Shry now.

It had been rough, a few times. The Fallen didn’t let go of tech easily. Failsafe had given him schematics for armor and weapons and he put them together, arming them both. Failsafe’s frame carried an auto-rifle and a rocket launcher and had extra armor plating. Ardath now wore Exodus Down armor as her security forces had. He had a shotgun, auto-rifle, and sniper rifle now to go with his hand cannon. He was working on learning how to make knives.

Failsafe had suggested the Well of Flames as their meeting location. She said it was easier to hold than almost anywhere else that wasn’t her ship if you were smart about it. So he and Failsafe had spent several days clearing the area around the Well and setting up some automated defense turrets.

He was struggling with the balance of the fidget spinner when the telltale glimmer of transmat sparks heralded their arrival and Shry and Katya-7 appeared before them, Isaac and Astrophel shortly after. Katya had been the one to contact him after he sent his apology letters. She’d told him that they’d gotten them and read them and wanted to meet and had worked with him to set this up. 

Katya was in her typical fieldplate with her helmet on, already scanning the room. Astrophel and Isaac both ran quick scans before turning to face them. Shry had her Xenos Vale armored coat on but her helmet and gloves were missing, and her eyes were boring into his. 

“Uh, hey,” he managed, lamely.

“Typical,” Failsafe muttered. “Greetings, Captain!”

Shry started, swinging to face the frame. “Failsafe!”

“The un-Ghost has been somewhat useful,” she acknowledged. “It has been helpful to have hands and a mobile sensory array.”

Shry took the seven steps it took for her to cross the room and threw her arms around the frame. “I’ve always wanted to do this,” she admitted, holding on to the frame.

The frame rocked until its balance steadied and slowly the arms lifted to rest awkwardly on Shry’s arms. “Captain,” Failsafe’s voice sounded uncertain. “I do not know the appropriate protocols for this sort of interaction.”

“That’s okay,” Shry said, releasing her and taking a step back, running a hand under her eyes. “We’ll help you learn.”

The frame’s hands flexed several times as its arms returned to its sides. “Thank you, Captain.”

“Of course,” she said, turning to look at Ardath again. He wasn’t prepared for just how emotional her face would be. Her eyes were bright and wet, cheeks flushed, both her mouth and eyebrows unable to settle on a shape. “Thank you,” she said.

“Oh,” he breathed. “Um. You’re welcome?”

Katya had found the simple chairs he’d managed to cobble together and carried to where they were standing. “Shall we?” she prompted.

“Right,” Shry nodded, pulling a handkerchief from a pocket as she sat down. She turned it over and over in her hands before producing a datapad. “How do we want to do this?”

“Tell him what you thought?” Katya suggested, offering a chair to Ardath. He took it and held it out to Failsafe. The frame considered him briefly before accepting the chair. 

“Right,” Shry said again, her voice already thickening with emotion.

Ardath claimed a chair for himself after he was sure the other would hold up under the weight of an EXO in full Titan armor and settled in. He grabbed his fidget spinner again and focused on balancing it. “I am listening,” he said quietly. 

There was a long silence before Shry spoke again. “It’s like you said,” she began. “You’ve done this before: said things you regretted and apologized. This is the first time that it’s felt like you understood what you were apologizing for, though,” she swallowed. “I’ve always wanted you with me, do you know that?”

He looked up from the spinner, surprised. “I- I didn’t, no.”

“Never stopped,” she said.

He ducked his head. “Oh.”

“I’m glad you know that it’s been a problem - the way you’ve behaved. I’m glad you’re trying to change it. I don’t know what trying again looks like, really, but I want to.”

“Me too,” he said, eyes on the spinner.

He heard Shry take a deep breath. “I’m going to work at telling you when you hurt me. Sometimes I may ask Isaac to do the talking for me.”

Ardath nodded, only just redirecting his fingers from his mouth. Shry was silent long enough that he looked up to find her looking at Isaac, changes in her posture and expression indicating that they were communicating silently and relief went through him. “Oh good,” he said without meaning to. When they turned to look at him, he fought the urge to shrink into his chair. “I’m glad you can do that. I never figured it out.”

Shry almost smiled, though she looked sad. Isaac’s shell plates shifted and Ardath realized that it was a different one than the one he’d seen last. Realizing he’d been staring, he ducked back to his spinner. 

“Ardath,” Isaac’s voice went through him like a shock and his hands were finally shaking too much for the spinner. 

“Yeah,” he managed.

“We would like for you to return to being a part of our lives, please.”

Ardath made himself look at Isaac and was immediately caught by the Ghost’s optic focus. “You’re sure?”

“I am,” Isaac said. 

Something in Ardath felt very brittle. “Okay,” he agreed. “Thank you.”

“You are welcome,” Isaac said and Ardath could feel the weight in those words. “And thank you.”

He was only able to jerk his head up and down in an acknowledgement.

“There is more that I’d like to discuss with you but I believe we might be best served by waiting until things are a bit more settled,” Isaac noted, sounding fully calm. “Is that acceptable?”

“Sure,” Ardath shrugged. 

Isaac nodded and Shry shifted in her chair. “Can I hug you?” she asked.

“Um. Yeah, if you want to.”

“I do,” she nodded, still waiting. 

“Okay,” he stood, feeling awkward. He didn’t notice her move. One minute he was shifting from foot to foot, the next Shry was wrapped around him as best as she could and the part of him that was always searching for her calmed some. He hugged her back, resting his head gently on hers.

When Shry eventually let go of him, he found himself inches away from Failsafe’s frame. She shook a finger in his face. “You are going to give me a report every day,” she said sternly.

“Okay,” he agreed, nodding.

“You are going to be extremely honest,” she insisted.

“I can do that.”

“I will be getting reports from the Captain and the Friendly Ghost and the Katya-7 and the Talkative Ghost.” Astrophel sighed. “If I hear anything I do not like, I will summon you and you will come back.”

“Can I come back just because, sometimes?”

The frame jerked slightly. “You want to?”

“Well yeah. I learned a lot from you and I kinda had fun helping with stuff.”

The frame leaned towards him, scanning. “If you must.”

“Cool,” he grinned. He turned again and found Astrophel in his face.

“You,” Astrophel said in a very direct tone. “Are not running off like that again or I will personally come looking for you.”

“Oh. Uh. I’ll try to keep that in mind?”

“See that you do. You are such an idiot, you know that?”

“Yeah,” Ardath ran a hand over the plates of his head. “Yeah.”

“Well. I called dibs on being the first to tell you the news so. Get your listening ears on.”

“Okay?” Astrophel’s rapidly swinging moods were more confusing now that Ardath was an EXO. 

“We formed a fireteam!” the Ghost crowed.

“We?”

“Me and Katya and Isaac and Shry!” Astrophel spun in a rapid circle.

Fireteam. Shry in a fireteam. He’d never even dreamed. “Wow,” he said, faintly. “That’s- how- Amazing.”

“Right?” Astrophel was audibly pleased with Ardath’s response. 

“Congratulations, Captain, the Katya-7. What is your fireteam’s designation?”

“We haven’t decided yet,” Shry admitted.

“Squall,” Ardath spat out before he could stop himself. One hand immediately covered his mouth.

Katya snorted and Shry started giggling and Astrophel nodded. “That sounds about right.”

“Fireteam Squall?” Failsafe asked, her tone clearly communicating that she was not thrilled.

“I think we’re stuck with it now,” Katya said.

“Captain?” Failsafe called, an obvious reach for some form of sanity.

“I kind of like it,” Shry admitted, knowing she was disappointing the AI. 

Failsafe’s more emotional voice was the one to sigh in response. “ _Fine_.”

They had settled back into something resembling a comfortable routine on Mars. Ardath typically spent his days doing data analysis or encryption work for Ana and Jinju or running tactical support for Katya and Shry when they set out to clear an area or retrieve a warsat. He had agreed to resume tutoring Isaac in cryptarchy when he asked. 

It was after one such session that Isaac hesitated before leaving. “May I respond to some of the things you said in your letter now or would you prefer I do so at another time?”

“Uh,” Ardath jerked up, surprised. “Now’s okay, I guess.”

“First,” Isaac said slowly. “I want to be certain that you know that I would not have Failsafe eradicate you.”

The EXO slumped and leaned against the back of his chair. “Yeah. I- yeah.”

“Neither would Shry.”

“I know.”

“I have no desire to be your jailor, either.”

Ardath tilted his head. “I don’t get it.”

“You indicated that we could leave you locked up under Failsafe’s supervision if we wished.”

“Oh. That bothers you?”

“Yes.”

“Would you explain why?”

“You are your own person. We do not keep prisoners of war. Why would we keep prisoners of friendship? Whether you hurt us or not, we would not make you a slave. Your commitments bind you, but we do not. I would rather see you find a place for yourself than try to become a slave.”

“I… hadn’t thought of it that way,” Ardath said slowly. 

“I had hoped that was the case,” Isaac relaxed a little. “I hoped you did not think I would-”

“No!” Ardath bolted into an upright posture. “I didn’t think you were like that. You’re not! Shry isn’t. You aren’t. I just… I didn’t trust myself. I shouldn’t have made that about you.”

“Thank you,” Isaac said carefully, letting his relief show in his plate posture. “I was concerned.”

“Yeah. I- Sorry.”

“It is forgiven,” he said. “I am grateful for your efforts to improve your communications. You have made excellent progress.”

“I-” Ardath blinked, surprised. “Thank you.”

“I realize that I have never stated this clearly: I accept your apologies.”

“Oh,” the EXO breathed. “Oh, okay. Wow. Thank you. I don’t deserve that. Thank you.”

Isaac’s plates shifted around him. “You are welcome.”

Ardath went quiet, his jaw working and fingers flexing. Eventually he sighed. “Okay.”

“I have something to thank you for,” Isaac continued. “Your work on shell improvements has been invaluable.”

“Oh. Of course. You’re welcome? Glad it’s been helpfu-” he broke off and turned to stare at Isaac. “What happened?” He carefully enunciated each syllable.

“Has Astrophel told you about the Scorn out in the Tangled Shore?”

“The mess with Sov? Yeah.” 

“It seems Ghost hunting is a favored pastime of theirs.”

“Isaac,” Ardath spoke jerkily. “I’m freaking out here. Please just tell me what happened.”

“My apologies,” Isaac hurried to say. “All involved are well save for the Scorn. I did not mean to distress you.”

“It’s okay, just. Start with that, please.”

“Everyone is well and fully recovered,” Isaac said again. “While you were gone Katya was called in for a mission so Shry and I went to the Tangled Shore to collect metals for Failsafe and Rasputin. One of the Scorn fired on me. Shry sent me back to the ship while she cleared out the Ghost hunter and then we returned here for a new shell and to learn what we could about core repairs.”

“Core repairs?” Ardath’s voice shook like that of a shivering human.

“A mild scratch,” Isaac explained gently. “I can show you, if you like.”

“Tell me it’s repaired,” Ardath asked.

“It is,” Isaac said, his tone as soothing as he could make it. “Shall I show you?”

“Okay,” the EXO nodded.

Isaac transmatted out of his shell, leaving it on the table nearby, and turned so that Ardath could see the repairs. 

“Oh,” he said. “That’s- that’s pretty good.” He still sounded distressed.

“I thought you might want to see our research,” Isaac offered. “Jinju is doing regular fabrication runs of these shells now. Astrophel and Bee are working on ways to customize them.”

“I- Isaac.” His voice projection system seemed to be struggling.

“Yes?”

“You’re okay?”

“I am,” he said with full confidence. “I experienced some errors due to the injury but the repairs seem to have fully resolved the issue. I am well.”

“Shry did okay?”

“She did.”

“And- And you’re all fixed up and okay.”

“I am. Ardath, all is well. Truly. There is no reason for concern, now.”

“Yeah,” Ardath nodded. “Okay.”

“Should I call for Shry?” Isaac asked, concern continuing to rise.

“No, just. Don’t go?”

“I am here. I can stay for as long as you need,” he agreed immediately. 

“Fuck,” Ardath shuddered and seemed to relax some, resting his face in his hands. “I didn’t- I hadn’t- Isaac.”

Isaac considered the former Ghost thoughtfully. “You saved my life.”

Ardath’s head jerked up to stare at him.

“You told me I could not afford to mess up as you had. You were right. You gave me the solution and helped me implement it. The Scorn’s Rifleman killed Sundance exactly as they tried to kill me. Thanks to you, they failed.”

It was only then that Isaac saw that Ardath was trembling. On impulse, one he would question later, Isaac reached out with his Light to soothe Ardath the way he did Shry. He was shocked to feel the Light that remained in Ardath respond, surging forward to meet his own.

“Wha-” Ardath’s entire body leaned forward toward Isaac. “Is that Light?”

“It is,” Isaac agreed. 

“I can feel it. I can feel Light!” Ardath’s eyes were so bright Isaac could not detect any other visual input. 

“I-” Isaac trailed off and had to begin again. “I thought it might soothe some of your concerns perhaps subconsciously,” he explained, some of his wonder leaking into his voice. “I never would have guessed…”

Ardath’s eyes stilled in Isaac’s vision. “This is your Light?”

“Yes.”

“Isaac,” the EXO said, his voice thick enough with emotion that they were difficult to identify. “Thank you.” 

Isaac let himself consider a future where he could not wield his own Light. He considered Ardath’s reality. “You are welcome, Ardath.”


End file.
